


Blue Roses

by alexb_lux (enby__alexf)



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Harry Styles Needs a Hug, I Don't Even Know, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, M/M, Medical Procedures, Not Happy, Past Rape/Non-con, Please Kill Me, Rape Recovery, Sad, Sickfic, Suicidal Thoughts, Suicide Attempt, please take me to theraphy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-24
Updated: 2021-02-12
Packaged: 2021-03-09 19:53:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,335
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27691688
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/enby__alexf/pseuds/alexb_lux
Summary: Harry tried to kill himself but thanks to his (bad) luck he survives so he ends in a hospital room with a beautiful and sick boy.ORLouis has been sick since he was born, but when he meets Harry he wishes, for the first time, he wasn´t supposed to die young.
Relationships: Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson
Kudos: 15





	1. Harry

**Author's Note:**

> This fic is not a happy one, I am clinically depressed and you will find that I write depressing things a lot. So if you are struggling with your mental health or something, don't read this or read it but go to fucking therapy.  
> Anyway, is not like I am a fucking parent, do what you want and if you need to talk to someone go to my Instagram (@_alexbenk_), we can be sad together.  
> And another thing is this is not beta and English is not my first language and this is the first long fic I write. So I apologize for this horrible thing against this language and humanity.  
> tw: homophobic slurs, suicide, past rape, Harry was fucking groomed, panic attacks

The pain was almost too much, resting against his thighs, his arms, his chest, his head; it was like he was on fire, everything hurts. For a small moment, he does not remember who he is, and why the roof is blindly white and why the _fuck_ he has a fucking thing connecting to his arm, and why his head hurt so much. But then, the last weeks (the last horrible weeks) appear in his mind and he is going to throw up. He smells the antiseptic in the air, can feel the bandage almost in his whole body and he is in panic, absolute panic. 

_I am not dead._

And with that horrible reality kicking him up, he starts crying and trying to remove the scary tube in his forearm, the machines are beeping, and everything is too bad, too bad. And the only thing that Harry can think of is the fact that he is not dead and he is disappointed about that, he tried hard to kill himself and now he is here, very much alive and Harry hates it. He heard someone screaming and it sounds like a boy but Harry removes the thing in his arm and and and… someone is keeping him still. It feels like a woman but Harry is not fine and tries to escape because this can not be happening to him, this _can not_ be real and this is a fucking nightmare and he was going to wake up some months ago. 

“Help!” screamed the woman’s voice and why is she screaming?

Someone starts touching him on the other side and he is too scared and he is crying and begging _please don’t_ and _let me go_ and _I will do whatever you want_ and _just let me go please let me go._

“Shhhh,” says a voice, is soft and is not the raspy voice that Harry remembers “you are safe, you are safe, I promise you."

And is dark again.

When Harry wakes up again, his mother is in the plastic chair next to him and his head no longer hurts and everything is more clear, as the fog in his mind was no longer gripping his brain. His mom is crying, and Harry wonders why, but then remember that he is in a fucking hospital and this was exactly what he did not want, watch his mother cry. 

“Mom…” he exhales. 

His mom cleans her cheeks and smiles a little, she is more close now and when she touches he tries his hardest not to move away from her touches. 

“My baby,” she whispers and Harry wonders if this is heaven “my beautiful baby. I love you so much okay?”

Harry closes his eyes and he let the tension in his shoulders slip away, that tension was there since he decides to kill himself and he always thought that his mother would be mad at him, cause he was a coward (he _still_ a coward) but his mother is nothing like that, she is whispering loving words that wash away some of the pain too. And of course, he is crying again like a fucking _baby_ but his mother does not mention it and keeps talking to him in a soft voice.

“I am going for the doctor,” she tells him moments later, “I won't be long, I'll be back, okay, my love?”

Harry wants to tell her (no, to _beg_ her) not to go but he does not move and his mother is gone and all the pain that Harry was ignoring moments ago, was back and that motherfucker came hard. Harry gasps in pain, and he notices for the first time that he is not alone and the hospital room and this whole thing was even scarier than what he thinks it would be. All is white and smells like dead, machines are beeping, and two of them were next to Harry´s bed, one was an I.V connected to his arm and the other was the beeping machine, wires connected to Harry's right index finger. By far the scariest thing in his room was the other bed and the boys sitting there. 

When Harry´s eyes land on the boy, all he wants to do is run and go away. 

He has a tube in his nose that Harry has only seen in movies, his skin was pale and he wore baby blue pajamas, his hair was brown and seemed soft to touch and his eyes were the most beautiful blue eyes Harry has seen in his short life. But he looks like he was sick and worse like he was _dying_ by how sick he looks. 

And Harry was speechless, he always was talking but since this shitty thing happened he lost his words, like now. 

The boy jumps from the bed and Harry sees with horror how the machine where the boy is connected by the nose moves wobbly, but the boy doesn't seem to notice while walking to Harry´s bed. And then the tube in his nose moves and the boys make a pained noise and Harry finds his voice in the hell of his head only to say: “Oops!” 

Harry is ashamed for a second, the raspy voice saying ‘ _Stupid, stupid child’_ but then the boy is smiling and he lights up like the sun, all the sickness faded away in mere seconds, his blue eyes look like the sky. 

“Hi,” he whispers and puts his nose tube in place before walking again to Harry.

Harry tries to sit in the bed, but then his left arm hurts like hell and a gasp lets his lips.

“ _Motherfucker_ ” he curses

The smile on the boy's face slipped and before Harry could say anything he was touching Harry and Harry flinched away.

“Sorry,” is saying the boy “sorry, sorry. I didn't ask before touching you, I am so sorry” he looks ashamed of himself with his cheeks start coloring pink. 

Harry wonders if people out there ask before touching you or _excuse_ themselves after touching someone without consent. In Harry's experience they don't, they are rude and always try to touch him even if he hates being touched, including sometimes his mother. “It doesn't matter” he lies and looks at the boy, trying to guess if he is going to try to touch him again. It doesn't look like, he has his arms crossed in his chest. 

“I'm Louis,” he introduces himself but does not extend his hand to shake Harry's. 

“Harry,” said the voice of his mother in the door. She looks like she's been there for a long time, just watching the interaction in front of her. Harry and Louis look at her and the doctor, the fear installs again in Harry´s chest. He has always hated doctors, _motherfucking sons of bitches_ doctors. And when the doctor walks and looks at him with eyes full of pity, Harry hates them more. 

However, the doctor doesn't seem to notice Harry´s hate eyes in him. 

“Hi, Harry,” he smiled, Harry hated him _even_ more. “I´m doctor Johnson, your family's doctor, how are you?”

And before he can think, his sharp tongue is attacking and sarcasm fills the words. “I dunno doctor, it feels like my life was cut with a razor”

No one laughs and the doctor moves uncomfortable in his place, and Anne has an incredulous face like she doesn't believe that he is already joking about it like he wasn't crying like a baby moments ago. The doctor clears his throat.

"I am speaking emotionally, Harry" he touched one of his curls, and Harry flinched away curling in himself "how are you, son?" He asks again.

Harry does not want his mother there, he wouldn't talk about anything with her around. She's his _mother_ and she doesn't need to know why he wants to kill himself, cause she would blame herself and Harry would die first. So, Harry curls in himself and doesn't look at anyone. Dead silence falls in the room but Harry is not going to talk, maybe with a therapist or some shit but no with his mom or a boy who has never seen before or a fucking non-psychiatric doctor.

The doctor exhales like that reaction was exactly what he was expected.

"Okay then," he says firmly, "you will have three sessions with a therapist and two with a psychiatrist. Until then, until you cooperate, you will stay here, do you understand son?"

Harry made a vague sound, he doesn't care anymore. He wishes he was dead, and wonders how would look his afterlife, maybe full of puppies and a big garden where he can get himself dirty. And, of course, without this pain.

Harry doesn't remember the next things, his mother talking on the phone with someone and Harry takes a guess, maybe Gemma or her new boyfriend. Harry doesn't care. Someone brings him food that tastes like ash, but he eats it like a good boy while his mother looks at him like a fucking eagle. The boy doesn't try to speak to him, he has his visitors: a short woman heavily pregnant and a man.

Finally, at five o'clock, his mother leaves. She doesn't leave his phone or something for entertainment, but Harry doesn't ask her to. He doesn't want his phone, no one has called or messaged so, what does that matter? At six, they bring food again. And a nurse is talking with Louis, changing the bandage in his chest and giving him a bunch of pills. Harry wonders what he has, he looks very sick but nothing seems wrong, he is not bald so probably not cancer, maybe lungs?

The nurse next to Harry is a man, very young actually. Handsome but nothing… so much.

"Here," he says, and put a glass of water in Harry's hand and give him a little plate with four colorful pills "take them"

Harry looks at the nurse then to the pills and the glass. _Meh_ he thinks, is probably something for pain and sleeping pills, if he has luck, maybe a strong antidepressant. So he takes them and sips in the water.

"Thanks," he whispered and gave the nurse the glass. 

He put the glass on the table next to the machines and smiled at Harry.

"Your welcome, Harry. If you need anything, my name is Dean." He winks at him and turns to go.

Harry feels something wrong in his chest, the raspy voice saying ' _you are nothing more than a little fag, a little whore, don't you, kid?_ ' and the panic is in Harry's throat, kick him and made his vision dizzy and his breath is fast. The machines beeping alarmingly and the tears are running down his cheeks. 

"Harry," says a soft low voice "is okay, look at me. Can you look at me, please?"

Harry is grateful that no one is touching him but anyway the ghost of Luke is laughing at him. ' _You were made for taking orders, whore_ ' and Harry is screaming, his hands in his hair trying to pull his hair off.

"Please!" He cries "please leave me alone! I am n-not a fag!" His voice is shaking and he is so in pain, he hates this. He hates himself. 

“Don't!” says a voice “Don't touch him! Let me calm him, _please_ ” a different voice replies but Harry is too gone for listening. And someone feels close, the warm feeling of a body is _so_ uncomfortable that Harry tries to flinch away. “Tell me,” says Louis “Tell me what to do, I will do it”

That is even weird that someone touches him but that caught Harry's attention. 

“W-what?” 

Louis is in front of him, still wearing the wires in him and looking a little worried, but there is no pit in his blue eyes. Harry tries hard to concentrate on him, in his soft brown hair and his eyes and his skin, he tries to count all the freckles in Louis´ pale cheeks and everything is a little easy now, no one is touching him, the boy in front of him is not too close and is no Luke anywhere. “You are safe,” whispered Louis, “You are safe, I promised you that, didn't I?” he doesn't try to touch Harry and yeah, he makes Harry feel safe. 

“Yeah?” His voice is shaking and weak but Louis smiles like he was listening to the most beautiful voice in his life. 

“Yes,” he assures “Tell me what to do, Harry,” Louis moved uncomfortably in front of him. “If you don't, someone would try to make you unconscious again. Would you like that?” 

Harry knows that the right answer is no, but he feels weak and bad and he wants to sleep so _badly_ “Yes,” he says, and closes his eyes “Please” he begs. 

He heard Louis sigh, “Can I touch you, Harry?” he asks. And before Harry knows what he is doing, he nods and feels the soft and cold hand of Louis on his forehead and his other hand is in his forearm, where the I.V is connected. “Harry, you are safe now. You don't need to be unconscious”

Harry's breath is less agitated and his head is not dizzy any more. Something tells him that the nurses are no longer there and he is alone with Louis, and that is less scary than what he thought it would be. “Why?” he asks, his voice is a low breath and for a moment he is not sure if Louis listens to him. 

“Why what?” 

Harry thinks he has more questions than answers and all of them are in his head and probably he would get a headache by that. So he asks the most obvious thing he could think “Why are you here?” 

Louis laughs a little, his laughs are soft and so so warm that Harry thinks he could get burned by it. 

“Cause I'm dying, Harry,” he says. 

There is no pain in his voice, he is only speaking facts and his voice and face are steady. “Aren't we all?” Harry asks, he is very sure he had heard the same answer to that question in some horrible teenage movie “Motherfucker” he curses “I sound like a fucking romantic movie”

Louis laughs loud, his head falls back a little and when he calms down, his eyes are bright and he says playfully “I am pretty sure Hollywood wouldn’t risk his shit putting some suicide and mental illness in movies”

“Damn it,” Harry almost feels a smile on his face, almost “that ruins my chance to become some shitty romance movie. That was my dream” he pretends to whine. Louis smiled and he was no longer touching Harry and that is the moment where he noticed he didn't mind Louis touching him. 

Before Harry can complain Louis is touching his chest, a painful expression on his face and machines are beeping, and a lot of nurses are in their room, asking Louis why he is not in his bed, and why he is not caring for himself, and why why why. Louis flinches in the nurse's arms, and he looks like he is unconscious but that doesn't make sense, he was _just_ fine moments ago. “What's happening?” he asks no one in particular.

  
Thank God, Dean The Nurse answers him “He is just having a collapse, nothing weird. He is fine” but Louis _doesn't_ look fine and he doesn't wake up that night.


	2. Louis

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Louis goes to therapy and the boys talk a little

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Remember, if you need something or talk to someone go to my Insta (_alexbenk_) and my Twitter (alexbenx1)  
> tw: Suicidal toughs, sad Louis  
> Hope you enjoy, xoxo Alex

When Louis wakes up, the pain in his chest is familiar, the burn in his entire body is the only thing that tells him that he didn't die while he was asleep. When he was a child, his mother always looks sad when he said to her that he didn't know how to guess when he was alive and when he wasn't, but in case his mother always looks sad when Louis talked about his disease like he didn't get that shit when he was born. Maybe it's because she is his mother and she wants him to live but Louis always knew he was born to die young and there is nothing wrong with that.

Breathing was painful but moments later (with a lot of effort) he could sit in his hospital bed. Normally, he wasn't in the hospital  _ all  _ the time, he was sick and his mother knew how to trade him and take care of him. But Louis had heart surgery some days ago and he knows the doctor would keep him in observation at least four more days because the strokes are getting more and more common and even with this fucking surgery Louis would die young anyway, his heart has no chance, is too sick, too bad, the doctors can not make something for him until the transplant.

The thing is Louis is not sure if he wants a transplant, maybe if he had a normal life but he hasn't, he had always been the sick kid. He _will_ always be the sick kid, no matter what happens. Louis noticed Harry in the other bed, he was still asleep, with his dark and curly hair on his forehead, his green eyes closed and his skin worryingly pale. When Louis first saw the boy, he knew something was wrong. It was strange, it was not a lot of bandage and blood on his thighs or his arms. Or even the fact that he was there because of an attempt, no. It was because Louis saw how… bad the boy looked. His best friend's sister had been abused when she was 14 years old, and Louis recognized the signs, and Harry was definitely abused (or even worse). 

Louis didn't know if it was how dull was his eyes or how skinny he looked or the way he moved. And of course, the horrible things that Harry screamed and cried when he was in a panic only reaffirm Louis' theory. 

“Hey,” said Mia quietly so as not to wake Harry, she is one of his nurses, “Doctor Michael wants to see you”

Dr. Michael was Louis's therapist because of course, the hospital provides therapy for the sick kids. She was a little woman, shorter than Louis, kind and talkative. She was always dressed in some colorful floral dresses and her blonde hair in a ponytail, the hospital has many therapists but she was the one who treated chronically ill teenagers and the suicidal ones. She was good and Louis hoped that she would treat Harry. 

Mia helped him to get out of his bed and sit in the wheelchair. She put his oxygen in the chair, he  _ really  _ doesn't need oxygen, his lungs were fine (well _almost_ ) but his faulty heart made his body suffer total shutdowns and that includes his lungs, so the doctor started putting him in oxygen after surgeries when he was 13. Then she started walking him out of the room, they were in the general hospitalization wing but Louis knew that on that floor were almost all the teenagers in the hospital, most of them were chronicle sick and Louis already met them all, sometimes a new patient would come, maybe pneumonia or some infection but they would go quickly. So they passed the rooms to the elevator on their way to Dr. Michael’s office. 

“How is your new roommate?” asks Mia. 

Louis moves his fingers uncomfortable in his pajamas, he knows she wasn't there yesterday to see all the things that happen in their room. “Fine, he is nice,” Louis licks his parted lips. “He is just, you know…”

“Yeah,” she agrees with a sad look. She was a nurse, she knew what he meant. She had seen a lot of suicidal people in her life and knew how difficult life can be for them and their family, and how complex was all that bullshit. Even Louis, when he was younger, passed for that. He was so sick that he almost talked about it with his mother, he doesn't feel alive. He can't go anywhere, he can't run, can't go to school, or even masturbates a little too hard (yes, that was a story), for God’s sake. Mia knocks in the office, the sweet voice of his therapist lets them in, Mia removes the chair in front of Dr. Michael and accommodates Louis there. 

“Thank you, Mia;” smile Dr. Michael “You can go, I will take Louis to his room later”

Mia smiles at the Dr., her white teeth contrasted with her dark skin “Of course, see you later Louis” Louis muttered a soft ‘later’ and heard her close the door beside her. 

Dr. Michale is wearing a pink dress under her withe coat and her glasses matching her dress. She is cute and young, Louis is pretty sure if he likes girls maybe he would have a crush on her. She smiles at Louis and starts making notes in her therapist notebook. “Hi, Louis, how are we today, hon?” 

“Fine, I guess,” he lies, he is definitely not fine. She gives him a skeptical look, she knows him, she has been his therapist since she started working there, four years ago and she knows him very well. Louis may think about asking for another therapist. 

“Louis,” she says, “I see you”

Louis rolls his eyes and crossed his arms in his chest. “I am a little, just you know, tired”

She sighs and writes in her notebook before looking at him. “Okay, I see you don't wanna talk about it. So, how about we talk about other things? How's your mother?” 

A little tension leaves him. “My mom is fine, she had an eco some days ago and they hope that the girls would not have the same thing as me” and there it is, a thought Louis had a rather pessimistic thought. Maybe his sisters would have something like this and his mother would suffer more and Louis hates it. 

“Louis,” she starts, “you know that the thing you have is weird and not genetic, right?” 

Louis looks at his hands, right, he  _ knows  _ that. He knows that it is statistically impossible for that to happen but the fear is there, he is  _ terrified  _ about that and he can see in his mother's face that she is scared too “Yeah, I know.”

She doesn’t tell him that’s stupid, she only smiles “I see but your mother assume that risk when she gets pregnant, didn't she?” she waits until Louis nods, “and you're not a burden, Louis, that's one of the things we already worked,” she laughs playful. 

Louis is not in the mood for joking but he smiles more, a little more relaxed and then he asks what he wanted to ask since Mia told him where he was going “Did you put Harry in my room on purpose, right?” she makes an expression of surprise in an exaggerated way, he squints at her suspiciously. 

“How can you think that about me? I don't know who's Harry, I don't know what you are talking about” Louis looks at her in disbelief, not believing anything she was saying. 

“Tell me the truth,” he tells her. She smiles more, she knew what she was doing. It was a thing that Louis noticed a year ago, they put suicidal kids with kids that were dying, it never happened to him but that took place to Zayn, his best friend. 

“Maybe,” she says, Louis opens his mouth, ready to make a  _ conversation  _ about that, but she keeps speaking. “He needs you, Louis. I know that you don’t know, but if you read his suicide letter you would understand, he is so… broken”

It's like magic words, Louis knows that she made that purpose. Louis had never been  _ needed  _ in his life, he always needed something (some drug, some surgery, some fucking shit) or someone (his mother, his therapist, his father) but no one had never needed him and now he was aware how bad (how empty) it makes feels him. He knows she is playing with his mind, maybe she thinks that's going to make Louis have the fucking heart transplant. And even if he is aware of that, that doesn't matter, he already met Harry and he was a little under the boy's spell, he was nice and Louis doesn't want to die with guilt of death in his back. “Are you gonna treat him?” asks Louis. 

She nods “Something to say to the class?” 

Louis is not sure if he tells that in his letter or if he  _ wants  _ someone to know about it. It's not like they are friends anyway, he has no sense of loyalty yet. "I'd thought he was abused.”

She opens her mouth to speak but doesn't ask anything, writing down in his notebook something. “Okay, Louis. I think that was all, you don't want to talk and I respect that” so they ‘walk’ (read walk as she moves his chair around) to Louis' room when they are there Harry is sitting in the bed. 

The scene is the same thing that Louis remembered when he was younger and his parents hadn't assimilated his disease. A woman (Harry’s mom) is talking with him and a girl, she looks a little older than Harry, is crying in the plastic chair. She looks like him, so probably a sister or something. Harry looks  _ miserable _ , his head is down and Louis can see his hands shaking in his lap, he looks like he is going to have a panic attack in mere seconds. Louis felt sorry for him, he understood the feeling, well not  _ completely _ but he has been very close to that, the feel of almost drowning. Thank God, they notice them. And the girl cleanses her cheeks and his mother stops talking. 

“Hi,” greets Dr. Michael “Did they give you breakfast already?" she asks Harry. 

Louis glues his gaze on Harry, he has his hair wet and wears a dark pajama instead of his hospital gown. He doesn't have an I.V anymore but his left arm wore a new bandage. He looks better today but he doesn't seem good and if Louis has to guess, this familiar reunion isn't going like a fairytale.

"Hi, Harry," Dr. Michael brings Louis to Harry's bed. She looks at Harry's mother. "Hi Ms. Styles, I'm Harry's therapist. Would you like to talk outside?" Harry's mother seems to debut, she looks at her (daughter?) Then to Dr. Michael, "She can come too" smiles.

The three women go outside and Louis heard how Dr. Michael calls someone and tells them to bring Harry's and Louis’s breakfast. Louis tries to get out of his wheelchair but his legs are too weak for the non-oxygenated blood in them. "Fuck," he curses when he is incapable of getting out of his chair. Harry seems to notice his struggles, he jumps out of the bed and looks at Louis.

"Do you need help?" He asks and even if his voice is soft, Louis hates it. The bitter feeling about always needing help deep in his chest. And his motherfucker heart hurt like a bitch. 

Louis also hates when he admits: "Yeah"

Harry does something similar to a smile but is not a smile. Looks like he  _ tries to smile  _ and even that makes Louis' heartbeat painfully against his ribs. And now being gay is going to kill him,  _ awesome _ . Harry puts his arms gently around Louis' elbow and helps him to stand up. He is too soft as if he used too much force Louis would break under his touch. Now Louis is not sure how much he liked this guy.

"I am not a fuking crystal doll, Jesus," he says a little too sharp. 

Harry rolls his eyes "No, but you look like one, handsome." 

Louis mouth's falls open in awe "Did… did you just make a joke?"

Harry helps Louis to sit down in his bed and somehow he manages the oxygen out of the wheelchair "Yeah, cutie. I was hoping that your brain has enough oxygen to catch it" Louis looks at Harry without a blink, Harry was a different person when he was not having a panic attack. The boy moves uncomfortably in front of Louis "Sorry," he apologizes "too soon for disability jokes?"

Then Louis laughs and the tension leaves Harry. As always Laughing so hard makes Louis’s body scream but that doesn't care now "No, no. Just surprised me"

Harry is not smiling but he doesn't have to. Louis can see the difference now, how he was so tense and sad when his mother and the other girl were there. A mischievous look in his green green green eyes and his shoulders softer. He looks like a normal (or what Louis thinks is normal) 17 years old. The only thing that doesn't seem to fit in his image is the bandage on his arm. Louis wants to touch him, he looks so alive and bright like the fucking sun. However, Louis sits in his cold hands not to touch him, even if Louis is a very touchy person he knows that Harry isn't and it's fine.

"Is she your sister?" Ask Louis.

A little tense movement takes over Harry. "Yeah," he says. "I haven't seen her in two years and now…"

Louis understands the pain. After his almost heart attack when he was 13 a lot of people came to see him, worried that it would be the last time they would see him. It wasn't like a suicide attempt, probably she feels bad about leaving her little brother alone and the guilt was eating her alive. Louis doesn't know them enough so the only thing he can say is "That suck, buddy" 

Harry rolls his eyes and that looks like a tick "Don't call me 'buddy', asshole"

Louis makes an offended noise "I can't call you 'buddy' but you can call me 'asshole' that's not fair!"

"Eat it up, hon." Jokes Harry before climbing in bed next to Louis. There is a little silence where Louis uses for moving his legs rhythmically, the cramps are going crazy again. "What do you have?" 

Louis looks at him, he looks like he is ready to be rejected, Louis lifts his shoulders. "My heart is a time bomb," he resumed "it's eating itself"

And Harry being Harry answer "That sucks, buddy"


	3. Harry

When Harry's mom walked again in the room she was crying, hard. And Gemma looks even worse. Louis and Harry were eating their breakfast, sitting in the same bed and not talking too much. Louis was using the same pajamas than yesterday and Harry has to admit, he looks even more sick in the daylight. His skin was extremely pale and Harry saw how many times Louis had to move a different part of the body for comfort. Harry doesn't know much about heart disease but the cramps make sense. No blood equal to cramps.

His therapist was after his mother trying to stop her. But she was on her way to Harry. "My love," she cried. "Why didn't you ask for help before?" 

Harry blinked at her. "Uh," he says stupidly "what?"

Dr. Michael is in his mother, an arm around her elbow. "I don't think it is the better moment." She looks at Harry "maybe later in the office"

Harry feels anxiety starting to form in his gut, he doesn't know what they are talking about. But that doesn't feel right. Maybe they would know about Luke? But that's impossible, no? He was so careful around his mother and friends, they didn't know. Definitely he prefer to die right now. That was the exact reason, he couldn't live like that anymore, feeling gross in his body and not being able to do something about it. What would his mother think? His sister? His friends? Yes, he knew he was weak but that doesn't mean that he wants to hear what his mother says to him. He can actually hear her now. ‘ _ But Harry, why didn't you say something? Why didn't you do something? You are weak, you are worthless now… _ ’

No. Stop. They can't know. They  _ don't  _ know. 

"Yeah, sure," Harry says. He looks at Louis, he has his brown hair in his eyes covering them and he is looking at his plate. "Would you finish this?" He refers to his untouchables breakfast.

Louis nods "Sure." He doesn't say anything more and is weird but is not like they are friends so it doesn't matter.

Harry stands up but a nurse is now with a wheelchair to him. Harry knows that he doesn't need it but maybe is the hospital.protocol so he doesn't say a thing when he sits there. The anxiety is growing like a fucking monster. He can't think well now and the raspy voice of Luke is stronger now, sure, the voice never leaves him but when he is in panic it is always worse. 

To be fair Harry got into this himself, he met Luke in a coffee shop. He was seven years older than him and so cool and handsome and kind until he wasn't. He knows how everybody would react, he put himself on it, he was a  _ stupid stupid kid.  _ Harry feels the tears behind his eyes, no, don't cry. That would be suspicious. 

“Harry,” whispered Gemma besides him “Is that true?” 

Harry blinked at her. Her eyes were red and his cheeks were wet. She looked so sad and that was all his fault. Oh, how much more he could hate himself? “What?” he asks her “What do you mean?”

His sister shifts uncomfortably. “Er,” she says. “She says that you…” she stopped because they are in the elevator now and Harry can be more grateful for that. 

In the office Dr. Michael sits behind the table and all of them in front of her, she opens a notebook and look at them “So…” she says “I am gonna start saying that Harry and I have a confidentiality contract and I would only speak if he is in danger” his mother seems to protest but she does not say a thing “How the records are, Harry has suffered from self harm months ago and…” she looks straight to Harry's mother,"you didn't notice. Is that right? I am not saying that wrong but I need to know that or even if Harry has been a little strange around you.”

Harry moves his hands in his laps, it feels strange when f¿people about you like you weren't there. “He has been more quiet. I first thought it was because of the stress for school but…” 

The therapist nodded before kicking out his mother and his sister with kind and honeyed words. They sit in silence while she looks Harry directly in his eyes. “I have to be clear,” she stated. “I know that this is difficult but this only will work if you are honest with me, get it?” Harry nods, he doesn't know if he wants this to work. But months and even weeks before he was craving and  _ starving  _ for help. So what's different now? He can get help and… then what? How will he survive all this bullshit? He was so broken, who would love him? She sighs and speaks again “Did you meet Louis already?”

“Yeah,” says Harry, a little relieved that he doesn't have to talk about  _ things  _ “Why?”

“When he was… I think thirteen years old, he tried to kill himself. Or well, no. He did something really stupid and that trigger a heart attack" she sighs and closes her notebook "when I speak with him he tell me that he didn't feel the  _ right _ to live. And I think you have the same problem"

"You barely know me," says Harry sceptical.

She smiles and nods "Yeah but you don't want me to know you so the only thing I can do is guess" 

Harry looks at his hands. She can help,right? She was a therapist and she had to know what to do in these cases. She starts speaking again "I made a mistake and I am so sorry," Harry lifts his head "Louis is a smart kid and he notices some… kind of things. He think that you were abused, he didn't know what  _ kind _ of abuse" 

Harry closes his eyes. Oh, now he isn't nice anymore. He would have some words with that sick motherfucker "I don't.. don't..."

"it's fine" she interrupts, "you don't have to tell me if you don't want to." Maybe Harry should. "But I want you to ask you. Is Louis least worthy of living  _ just _ because he is sick?" 

Harry is not sure anymore if he likes Louie but that doesn't is the topic "No it is joy his fault"

She raised her eyebrows, smiling "And whatever happened wasn't your fault either." 

Harry is in a defensive mood automatically "You don't do that." 

"Then tell me." She challenged.

Harry is blue in words before he can think "He said it was my fault" 

He automatically regrets this is exactly why he didn't tell anyone. But to his surprise she doesn't bat an eye. She nods "What did he told you, Harry?" Harry looked back at his hands. ' _ You are begging for me with those pretty eyes _ ' and ' _ I know you want it don't you see? _ ' He is lost in his head and she speak again "How about you tell me who it was?"

Harry can actually do that. It's not that difficult right? "He's name i-is Luke" he hates himself for stuttering but he can't help himself. And he breaks "He was nice and he was older than me and I always thought he liked me and maybe he was in love with me but…"

She doesn't make a great show cause he is crying. She only passed to him a little box with tissues in it "He knows that you're here?" She asks.

"No," he answered, a little insecure. He can't know right? “We are not in touch anymore.” he is not sure actually. If his friends tell Luke he will jump from a building and kill himself not failing twice. 

She looks to see that so she sighs “You should tell your mom not to answer questions from him for your safety, okay? Thats the only thing i am gonna ask from you.” Harry lets slip a little tension in him “I cant put you on meds since i am not a psychiatrist but I'm gonna pate the suggestion to put you on antidepressant and meds for anxiety, get it right?”

Harry nods because it is the only thing he can do right now, she says something about talking with his mom and before he can say anything, his mom and sister are in the room. They are talking but Harry tries to escape from there, everything hurts so much and he just wants to sleep a little. But since his mom is talking to him he can't “Harry, why is Dr. Michael saying that I can say to anyone about this?”

Harry looks at his doctor, he doesn't know what to say and he is afraid his mother would know. But thank God, Dr. Michal speaks for him “It is for Harry safty” is the only thing she says. “He would tell you when he is prepared”

His mother wants to argue but she thinks better and smiles at him, is a little smile but is a smile anyways. “Is it alright if you and Gemma are alone? I need to do something about our insurance” Harry doesn't want that, that is the last thing he wants but he nods anyways. It's not like he had an opinion right now. 

Gemma smiles at him and both of them walk to Harry's room. She started talking in the elevator “I am so sorry Hazz, i didn't know what was happening. Mom calls me yesterday about an emergency but I didn't pick up until this morning, I am so sorry, Hazz”

_ Of Course she wouldn't pick the phone. Why would she? She didn't pick up when Luke touched me the first time  _ but he doesn't say that. She has enough guilt right now, she doesn't need more. “It doesn't matter.”

Gemma sughs “It does. I am so sorry about this. About everything that I had done and the things that I didn't.” she looks about to cry “I don't know if I can look you in the face after this.”

It feels like a punch in the chest. Harry's vision is blurry that somethin that Luke has told him when Harry finally wakes up and punches Luke in the balls. ‘ _ I can't look you in the face anymore, I am disappointed of you, little whore _ ’

“Gemma,” he says, trying to keep his voice steady “Can you go for some groceries at the store?”

Gemma looks at Harry, sad. But she doesn't say anything when both of them are in the room and she scape and run away from Harry like she senses the dark mood in Harry. He stands up and without looking at Louis who is with some nurse talking. He wants to curl in the bathroom, so he goes to the bathroom. Weeks ago, when the first time happened he used to hide in the bathroom a lot and turn on the shower, the sound of the water always calmed him. And that's exactly what he needed today. So he walks to the bathroom and opens the shower, sitting on the floor with his back pressed against the door, his knees are against his chest and his nose in his old pyjamas. 

Minutes pass and then Harry hears someone press against the other side of the door. “Was it that bad?” Louis jokes, his voice is a little lower and Harry had to make more effort to listen.

“Fuck you.”

Louis doesn't answer instantly but he doesn't care, he is an asshole. “Sorry,” he says minutes later “But I had to.”

Harry closed his eyes and tries no to cry his eyes off. Louis keeps talking “I had a best friend, his name is Zayn. He has a little sister and once when we were hospitalized together he finds out that she was abused. The thing was she didn't tell anyone for  _ months,  _ she suffered that shit alone until she told one of her friends.” Louis sighs “Her friend did not keep the secret, and Zayn's sister screamed at her for that. But then, Zayn's family gave her help. And even if they cried first and screamed and cursed the motherfucker and  _ even  _ if she didn't want help, they gave her help...”

Harry interrupted him “I don't want your help”

Louis laughs a little “I am going to die.” he says and it doesn't sounds like he is planning to die old “I am going to die and I don't care if you say that you don't need help, you  _ need  _ help and stop feeling sorry for yourself and let yourself get help."

Harry closes his eyes, he doesn't like this. But he doesn't have friends, Liam is Luke's friend and Louis is accessible and he is  _ offering  _ to be his friend.

"I am afraid." He finds himself telling it to Louis. 

"Can you… would you open the door, Harry?" 

Harry crawls away from the door and the moment the door can be open Louis is there, all soft in the edges and without the tube in his nose but he is breathing hard and in short whispers. 

"Hi." He says and sits in front of Harry "Better?"

Harry closes his eyes and he has to remember himself that Louis doesn't want to hurt him and he  _ can't  _ hurt him, he is too sick. So he crawled again and put his head in Louis's collar. 

"Better"

**Author's Note:**

> Just remember that suicide and depression doesn´t need a 'reason' is like a heart attack, you don't ask a person why he had a heart attack. Please take care of yourself.  
> xoxo, Alex.


End file.
